by John Creasey
“In more ways than one,” Roger said.
“Eh? Oh, I see what you mean! I didn’t think the rat would give me a chance,” Bill went on cheerfully. “I thought he would be all threats and no do – he won’t forget this afternoon for a long time!”
“No-o.” Roger was sober. “Do I understand that you’ve been away and come back to find Miss Randall in difficulties?”
Tennant frowned.
“Yes, that’s just what’s happened – I’ve been up north for a few months and I’d no idea that this was happening until—” he paused, as if doubtful whether it was wise to go any farther. After consideration he added pointedly: “But that’s none of your business, West. Do you mind leaving, so that Lois and I can go into things privately.”
Roger smiled widely.
“Yes, I do mind! I’m in this, Tennant.”
“I don’t see—” the other began, obstinately.
“You will, in time,” Roger assured him. “Lois has been persuaded to contribute one or two things towards ruining my reputation at Scotland Yard,” he added, “so I’ve a deep personal interest.”
“I don’t believe it!” Tennant said abruptly, but he looked at Lois with a puzzled expression in his eyes. “Lois, it isn’t—”
She stared at him intently, tears coming to her eyes; in anyone else Roger would have said that she began to cry deliberately, to get Tennant’s sympathy and to save herself from further questioning. But he thought this girl’s breakdown was genuine. She turned sharply, her shoulders shook and she walked blindly into another room, the door of which was ajar. She did not close the door after her and Roger saw her fling herself, face downwards, on a single bed.
“Oh, Lord!” exclaimed Tennant, stepping towards the bedroom.
Roger laid a restraining hand on his arm.
“I shouldn’t do that,” he advised. “I’d leave her for a few minutes. Is there a telephone in the flat, do you know?”
“There’s one on the next floor – a public call-box.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Roger said, and tightened his grip on the other’s arm. “Tennant, don’t let Lois leave here. Don’t encourage her, don’t let her persuade you to take her out the back way. If you’re gone when I come back there’ll be more trouble than you expect, and she won’t be safe unless she’s with friends all the time. Do you understand?”
He expected the man to demand what he meant by ‘safe’ but Tennant looked steadily into his eyes, then nodded slowly and said: “I’ll keep her here, don’t worry.”
“Good man!” said Roger.
He hurried downstairs, finding the phone on the landing and taking out some coppers. There was no sound of movement in the house. He kept his eyes on the stairs leading to the street, not convinced that Malone would accept even temporary defeat. He dialled his own number, grew worried because there was no immediate answer and was already imagining disaster at Chelsea when he heard Janet’s voice.
“This is Chelsea 0123.”
“Good afternoon, Mrs. West,” said Roger.
“Roger, you ass!” Then in a loud aside: “Mark! It’s him! Roger, when you come back, I’ll—”
Roger chuckled. “Save your threats for another time, my sweet. I am in great need of feminine assistance, to take charge of a damsel in distress. I cast my mind round and after much deliberation decided that I knew no one better qualified for the post than you, so—”
He heard Mark’s voice, Janet telling Mark to be quiet, then he went on: “I’m at 29 Chapel Street, *St. John’s Wood, and I think Mark had better come with you. Will you hurry, darling?”
“Yes, of course,” said Janet. “I—oh, I had the wind up thoroughly. Cornish telephoned and said that Pep had been shot and he wanted to speak to you. Has he been shot?”
Roger sorted out the confusion.
“Yes, but I haven’t! Jan, just a moment.” He took the receiver from his ear and reflected for a few seconds, then spoke again. “A quarter of an hour won’t make any difference, so before you come here go to Pep’s home, will you? Tell his wife that he’s been shot in the leg, that it’s not serious and that I’ll see her as soon as I can. I’m not sure what hospital he’s at—”
“It’s the London,” Janet said in a strained voice. “Cornish told me.”
“Oh, good! You’ll let her know and tell her not to worry?”
“How glib that sounds!” Janet said, after a pause. “What do you think women are made of, darling?” Her voice was honey sweet and Roger coloured a little. “All right,” she went on more naturally, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Then, suddenly anxious: “Roger, be careful!”
“What fools you think men are!” said Roger, more lightly.
“No, I mean it. Darling, I couldn’t bear it if—”
She rang off abruptly and Roger replaced the receiver, scratched his ear, then walked slowly up to the top flat. Janet was usually the least emotional of women, particularly when he was engaged in a dangerous case. She seemed easily upset now – probably because he was in danger from two sides. Yet, it was unlike her to show her feelings, it troubled him.
Tennant was still in the outer room, looking bewildered and peering through at Lois, who was sobbing less violently but who had not moved. Roger looked about the poorly furnished bedroom. There was a small window, fairly high up – he did not think there was any chance of her getting out that way, or of anyone breaking in. He closed the door and then turned to Tennant, who said: “You do take things into your own hands, don’t you?”
“In this case I must,” Roger said, smiling and offering a cigarette. “How much do you know of the trouble?”
“Absolutely nothing!”
“You’re sure?”
“Now look here, when I say a thing I mean it,” declared Tennant, and Roger was prepared to believe it of the forthright young man. “I’ve been in Scotland for four months. I’m”—he grinned—”an unarmed combat instructor! Before I left, Lois was – well, she was just her normal self. As a matter of fact,” he added with some embarrassment, “we’d got engaged during my last leave and I was rather in the clouds, you know. Her letters didn’t say anything about what’s been happening but a friend of mine wrote and told me that she seemed to be worried stiff. He didn’t know what it was about. I didn’t say anything about coming down but I managed to wangle a week’s leave earlier than I’d expected. I found – well, she’s as jumpy as a cat! I thought she would fall through the floor when she saw me. Then I realised that some damned swine – I don’t know who they are – are pestering the life out of her. She’s absolutely frightened,” Tennant added, his voice rising in bewilderment. “I can’t make her say why, she keeps telling me that it’s nothing to worry about and although I’ve offered to help her she won’t listen to me. She – why, she even told me to go back!”
“More mystery,” Roger murmured.
“Do you know why she’s so frightened?” demanded Tennant. “No,” admitted Roger, “but I hope to, soon.”
Chapter 13
STRICTLY UNOFFICIAL
Janet and Mark arrived just inside the hour, primed by Roger’s talk of a damsel in distress and therefore making no great fuss when they were admitted by Roger. Janet seemed to have recovered her composure completely.
Lois was in the bedroom with Tennant, who had gone in a few minutes before and who seemed to have been talking ever since. Janet looked radiant, with a high colour in her cheeks – probably the glow of excitement. That, too, was out of character in such circumstances, she was undoubtedly more excitable than usual.
Mark looked slightly peeved, doubtless because he had been so inactive.
“Well, darling?” asked Janet.
Roger said: “The thing to accept first, sweet, is that we’ve found the girl who paid in the money and—”
“We can’t do anything at all about it yet,” Roger said. “She’s been acting under compulsion and is so frightened that she doesn’t know what she’s doing or saying. And she’s had a visit from Masher Malone,” he added, gently.
Mark stared, bewildered.
The voices continued from the other room, Lois’s occasionally raised above Tennant’s; it was clear that she was still refusing to explain. Roger told the others what had happened since he left Welbeck Street and found time to explain the visit of Mrs. Sylvester Cartier and the Society of European Relief. They heard him out without comment, although Mark was scowling and Janet frowning very thoughtfully.
“So,” he finished, “we’ve got to nurse the girl to a better frame of mind, because she can probably give us the key to much of it, although she’ll almost certainly be in some danger.”
“Ye-es,” said Janet, “that’s fairly obvious, darling.”
“Sorry,” said Roger, a little disgruntled.
“Are you going to ask for police protection for her?” Janet demanded.
“I don’t think so, yet,” said Roger. “I think if she were to be interviewed by Abbott she’d flop right out – he would give her the finishing touch and we don’t want that if we can avoid it. No, for the time being I think it had better be strictly unofficial. We won’t be able to get any help from Pep himself but we can use one or two of his men. Then there’s this fellow Tennant, as well as we three. That should be enough.”
Mark said thoughtfully: “I rather like the sound of Tennant. I wish I’d seen him handle Malone!”
Soberly, Roger commented: “He’s made a bad enemy there; if only for the sake of revenge, Malone will come after him.”
“Roger,” said Janet, “I think you’re making a mistake.”
“Where?” demanded Roger.
“By not telling the Yard everything,” Janet said. “No, wait until I’ve finished!” she added as Roger was about to interrupt. “You’ve admitted that Malone is dangerous and I think if you told them what happened here this afternoon they would arrest him.”
“Even if they couldn’t prove much, they would be able to keep him out of harm’s way,” Mark said, quickly.
“After all, they should be able to do something about what happened this morning,” Janet added, quickly, “and you and Tennant can say that he actually attacked him and uttered threats, can’t you?”
Roger smiled, amusedly.
“Oh, yes! On the evidence of the three of us – always providing Lois would give evidence, which I think is doubtful.”
“Who?” demanded Janet.
“Lois. She—oh!” Roger grinned but coloured slightly and Mark eyed him owlishly.
“Very familiar,” Mark said in sombre tones, “very familiar, indeed. If I were you I wouldn’t stand for it, Jan!”
“Don’t beg the issue,” said Roger, severely. “I was about to say that we could probably put Malone inside for a week or two, if we could find him. He won’t fail to realise that we might lodge a complaint and he’ll probably keep out of the way. That apart, do we want him under charge?”
“And you’re a policeman!” exclaimed Mark, shocked.
“But also strictly unofficial,” Roger reminded him. “You know as well as I do, old man, that you’ve often been a tower of strength because you could do things which, as a busy, I couldn’t. If we put Malone away we may not find a way of getting in touch with the higher-ups in this business but if we let him run loose we’ll find him after us sooner or later and can turn that to some advantage.” He sounded rather pedantic. “I don’t think it’s a mistake, Jan.”
“Well, you have put a rather different light on it,” Janet conceded. “All right, we’ll do it your way.”
“Thanks,” said Roger, with exaggerated politeness.
“What are you going to do with the girl?” Mark inquired.
“We’ll take her home, of course,” said Janet.
“I see a snag if we do that,” Mark said. “Roger isn’t out of the wood yet and there will be Yard men watching until he is. The Yard will know that the girl is mixed up in the case and I wouldn’t put it past Abbott to demand an interview with her. Besides, you’ve already told him that you’ve found who paid in the money, haven’t you? He’ll jump to conclusions. This isn’t just an attempt to frame you, old man, it’s a pretty big show.”
Roger said: “Ye-es. You’re right, of course, but where can—”
“You could use my flat,” Mark said, hopefully.
“Of course, the police wouldn’t think of going there,” Janet said, sarcastically. “That’s no good.”
“Well, she must go somewhere,” said Mark, slightly affronted, “and—”
“I don’t see why you shouldn’t go to an hotel,” Roger said. “One of the glitter palaces would be a good idea, if we can get a couple of rooms.”
“Nonsense!” ejaculated Janet, making Roger eye her meekly. “Those places are all doors and I couldn’t be sure that she wouldn’t run away or that someone wouldn’t come and take her away. An hotel like that won’t do. Don’t you know of a small place where we could confide in the manager and put one or two of Pep Morgan’s men to guard it – somewhere in the suburbs, if you can’t think of one in the centre of London? On the other hand,” she went on, “the more central the better, because we’d be close by. There must be such a place. I don’t mind leaving home,” she added, generously, “but we must be sensible.”
“I am duly humbled,” grinned Roger. “You’re quite right, and I think I know a place where they might be able to fix you up. Mark and I would stay at Chelsea, of course.”
“Lois,” said Mark, with mild emphasis, “might have something to say about it, as well as her young man.”
“I think we’ll be able to persuade them,” said Roger. “If they come out before I’m back, introduce yourselves, won’t you?” He moved towards the door.
“Where are you off to?” demanded Janet.
“Only to the telephone,” Roger assured her.
He was back in ten minutes. No one had come from the bedroom but the voices grew quieter – whether the couple had decided that it was not worth further argument, or whether they had reached an agreement, Roger could only guess. He told Janet and Mark that he had been able to make arrangements with the proprietor of the Legge Private Hotel, in Buckingham Palace Gate, for accommodation. He knew Legge, the proprietor, fairly well; it was a good class family hotel where they would be comfortable and where, if necessary, Roger and Mark could stay for the night. With that off his mind, Roger went to the bedroom door and tapped on it.
“Just a moment,” Bill Tennant called.
There was another murmur of voices before the door opened.
Apparently Lois had realised that she had made a wreck of herself and she had made up her face quickly. It was obvious enough that she had been crying but she looked pretty and self-composed, very much better groomed than the untidy Tennant, who was a little embarrassed when he saw newcomers. The girl seemed to take their presence more for granted.
“I have nothing to say,” she declared, quietly.
“I—I’ve tried to make her tell you everything,” Tennant said, awkwardly, “but—”
Roger said: “It will all work out, I think. If Lois”—her eyes widened at his use of her Christian name—”doesn’t feel that it’s time to talk freely we’ll have to accept that. There are other things more important. In the first place, both of you are in acute danger.”
“Eh?” Tennant ejaculated. “Now, come off it, I—”
“Malone is a bad enemy,” Roger said, “and his temper won’t be improved by the way you smacked him down. He has friends, and you can’t handle a bunch of them in the way you handled one.”
He rubbed it in, conscious of the increasing anxiety in Lois’s eyes. “They won’t stop at using knives and razors. Will they, Lois?”
Startled, she said: “No, I—”
“How the devil do you know?” cried Tennant.
“We’ve decided not to press that point,” Roger told him, but he was puzzled by the girl’s admission that she knew how Malone would fight. “Both of you are on the wanted list, so while Malone is free you’ll be in danger. What I’ve arranged is—” he told them, briefly, of the Legge Hotel and the other arrangements.
He expected the girl to protest, but she did not. He was pleasantly surprised, for she gave him the impression that she was pleased with the suggestion. Tennant raised the only objections, saying with some spirit: “I don’t see why I can’t look after Lois. Anyhow, why are you so determined to hide her away, West?”
Roger smiled. “A nice point! Tennant, Lois will admit that she has impersonated my wife and as a result of it I’m in bad odour at Scotland Yard. If anything happens to her, and I seriously think it will, unless we take great care, one of the witnesses in my defence disappears.”
“What defence?” demanded Tennant.
“The trouble is that you know only half the story,” Roger said. “Why don’t you take my word that the only sensible course is for both of you to stay at the hotel, in hiding, venturing out only after dark until it’s blown over.”
“I’m not going to hide from a punk like Malone!”
“All right,” said Roger, resignedly, “when there’s a chance for you to throw your weight about I’ll tell you, but don’t be obstructive now.” His glance at the man said clearly that, with Lois more or less amenable, it would be wiser for him to withdraw his objections. Again he was agreeably surprised, for Tennant shrugged his shoulders and said that he supposed Roger knew what he was talking about.